


O is for Opera

by coolbyrne



Series: The Alphabet Series [15]
Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:15:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27515938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbyrne/pseuds/coolbyrne
Summary: Jack learns about the Big Three dates. Gibbs is the one to teach her. Slibbs
Relationships: Jethro Gibbs/Jacqueline "Jack" Sloane
Series: The Alphabet Series [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1909126
Comments: 29
Kudos: 118





	O is for Opera

Their brain-storming session, as it often did, ended with them twinning a theory together that got him to his feet and out the door with a new bit between his teeth. This time, however, he stopped at the door. 

"Hey," he said, casually tapping the file against the frame. "You goin' to that thing at the end of the month?"

"'That thing'?" she repeated, humour threading through her voice. "You mean the charity opera 'thing' that Leon 'requested' we go to?"

He smirked at her polite phrasing. "Yeah. That one."

She sat back in her chair. "It's not usually _my_ thing, but it _is_ for charity, so yeah. Once I take a loan out for the ticket."

His smirk bloomed into a chuckle. "Good. You can be my interpreter. Don't worry about the ticket. Got it covered." He tapped the door again and was gone.

The rapid-fire way he went from question to suggestion to answer caught her flat-footed. "Wait, what?" He didn't return and she called out, "What just happened?"

…..

She didn't get an answer to her question until the day before the event, mostly because he didn't mention it and if she was honest, with the caseload over the last 2 weeks, she had kind of forgotten about it herself. A long day finally ended with some rest and a reminder. Flopping back on her office couch, she saw a small envelope pinned to her dartboard. She grinned, knowing exactly what it was, but she stood anyway and padded over to the board in her bare feet. Unpinning the envelope, she peered inside and pulled out a ticket and a note.

_Pick you up at 7._

She flipped it over but there was nothing more. 

_Typical_ , she thought.

…..

"You know why I'm here?"

He stood in the entrance to his living room and shrugged at his surrogate daughter. "To bust my balls?"

Bishop stuck out her tongue. "No, I _was_ here to make sure you weren't wearing one of your work suits to the opera."

"What's wrong with-"

She lowered her chin and raised her eyebrows, effectively cutting off his retort. "But I see I didn't have to worry." She stepped closer. "You look- amazing." Her hands couldn't resist brushing down the arms of the black tuxedo. "You're so handsome." His snort got a smack in the chest. "Right. Because no woman has ever said _that_ to you." She didn't wait for a further retort. "I admit, I'm surprised you're going. Torres lost a bet with Tim that you'd find a way to back out."

"Leon didn't give me much choice."

"Like that's ever stopped you before." The way he hummed tweaked her antenna and she turned her head sideways as if to get a different view of him. He could almost see the wheels turning, and he wasn't sure if he dreaded her inevitable conclusion or welcomed it. Her eyes went from his polished shoes to the bowtie to his newly cropped hair and he would've laughed at the light bulb that went off in her eyes if it wasn't for the heat that went to his cheeks.

"She's going to love it."

"Then why am I so damn nervous, Bishop?"

Her eyes widened at his honesty, and she smiled at the fact he chose to share it with her. "I have no idea," she said, "because ovaries are going to be exploding all over the room when you walk in." He winced at the imagery but she shrugged. "Just telling you how it's going to go down tonight, that's all. Make sure Jack's not armed or there could be casualties." Her fingers slid under the lapels and she patted his chest. "I wish I could be there when she sees it."

The reminder made him ask, "How'd you manage to get outta this?"

"I'm not out of it entirely," she assured him. "Just told Vance I couldn't afford the ticket. A thousand dollars??"

"Buys a lot of Dr. Peppers."

She smirked at his jibe. "But I told him I'd be at the after reception. Nick's going to pick me up." Her wrist turned so she could see her watch. "Which means I should get going."

"Nick, huh?"

Her eyes rolled up. "I'll make sure he's a gentleman. _Dad_." She couldn't help but adjust the perfect bowtie. "Wow. Does she know it's a date?"

"Hell, Bishop, I don't know if it's a date."

She rose on her toes to press a kiss against his cheek. "Oh, I think you know exactly what this is. And I, for one, couldn't be happier." 

He felt his own smile forming. "Get goin'. I'll see ya there."

She got to the door and turned just as she stepped out of the house to give him one more look. "Wow."

…..

He sat so long in the limo that the driver lowered the black partition between the front and the back and asked, "Everything okay, sir?"

Gibbs blinked a few times and exhaled sharply. "Yeah. Just hopin' there's an elevator." He looked up at the apartment building to the 7th floor.

The driver smiled and to Gibbs' relief, pretended to go along with the excuse. "If you're not down with the lady in 15 minutes, I'll call."

Gibbs nodded his thanks and exited the car. With one final look upwards, he started up the walkway to the door.

…..

He didn't know why he was so nervous; he had been married 4 times, damn it. Had done the figurative dance, the relationship tango. He wasn't a stranger to dating a woman, to romancing a woman, to sleeping with a woman.

_Gettin' a little ahead of yourself, aren't ya, Gunny?_

And while his body contemplated the possibilities, his brain zeroed in on the real issue- nearly every relationship he'd been in might have had all those things, but they also had one other thing in common. 

Failure. 

The thought of screwing things up had drawn things out for over 3 years. He wasn't sure where or when the epiphany came, but somewhere along the way, the potential of all that was good outweighed the possibility of failure. At least, that was his thought process right up until the limo pulled up outside her building. Then the scales started tilting again.

The bell to her floor notified him of his arrival. The doors opened and waited for him to make a decision. He stared out into the empty hallway and drew in a deep breath. Everything was quiet and he forced his mind to do the same. 

He stuck out his arm before the doors could close again.

…..

When she opened the door, he didn't know if seeing her made it easier or scared the hell out of him even more, but he did know one thing.

"You look amazing."

Her eyes flitted downward at the compliment, and the pink that rose in her cheeks seemed to go with everything else about her, from the wine-coloured dress that drew bold lines around every curve to the diamond earring she was putting in her ear. Hiding her blush by focusing on the task, she stepped aside to let him in. 

"Did you want a coffee or something?" she asked. 

As she slipped one foot into a heel, he held out his right arm to offer support. She squeezed his arm in thanks and finished with the other shoe. He enjoyed the casual trust she put into his balance, felt warmed at the simple gesture. 

"Nah. Meter's runnin' on the limo." He felt her pause at the information and he grinned. "Came with the tux."

Her laughter lifted to his ears and she stood tall, smoothing down the wrinkles in the long dress. "And a very handsome tux it is," she said, unable to resist touching the pocket handkerchief.

He looked down at her, still shorter even in her heels, and he enjoyed his height advantage that allowed him to nearly box her in with his frame, to surround her with his size, protective yet also persuasive. She swayed into the move, her hand still on his chest, covering his heart.

"We should, we should go," she whispered, drawing his gaze to her mouth. "Wouldn't want to miss the first act."

He held onto the moment long enough to draw in her perfume before he stepped back, already missing the warmth of her hand. "An' the limo turns back into a pumpkin at midnight."

She grinned at his dry delivery. Curling a silver grey shawl around her shoulders, she picked up her small handbag and looped her hand through his proffered arm. "Let's go, Cinderella," she winked.

…..

While the reception area didn't turn as one when they walked in, there was no denying they drew some admiring attention. She squeezed his bicep and leaned in with a whispered, "I feel like I'm at the Academy Awards."

"If ya didn't want people lookin', ya probably shouldn'tve worn that dress, Sloane."

Her amber eyes brightened at his compliment, but she was sly enough to throw in one of her own. "If I didn't want people looking, I shouldn't have brought you, Handsome." 

He was saved from his blushes by the sight of a familiar duo who made eye contact and approached.

"Leon," Gibbs said. "How ya doin', Kayla?"

The young woman smiled. "Pretty good, Agent Gibbs. You two are super-hot."

Jack stifled a laugh at his deadpan expression. "How are you, Kayla?" she asked, bringing her in for a hug. "How's school?"

"Expensive," Leon interjected, though the warm pride in his eyes betrayed his feigned retort. To Gibbs, he said, "Didn't think you'd actually show up."

"You told me it was this or my expense reports for the last 6 months. Pretty easy choice." In the same way Leon's look at his daughter showed the real feeling behind the words, Gibbs' glance at Jack spoke volumes about the choice.

Leon saw the look but didn't comment. "Pretty expensive choice."

Gibbs shrugged. "I'm not puttin' a kid through college."

"You want one?" Leon asked. "Jared's next."

Gibbs chuckled, and the conversation was interrupted by the call to take their seats. 

"That's our cue," Leon said, holding out his arm for Kayla. 

Gibbs did the same for Jack, and the quartet allowed themselves to be shepherded into the main room, but at the last minute, he steered Jack towards the stairs. Leon turned at the change of direction and raised an eyebrow.

"Gibbs?"

Rather than answer, he grinned. "See ya at the reception, Leon." 

He tugged at Jack who looked at Vance in surprise, and Kayla all but swooned. "Wow."

"'Wow' is right," Leon said, realizing the duo were going up to the box seats. "You sure you don't want to pay for Jared's college?"

…..

"Box seats?" Jack asked. "I think I need to ask for a raise."

He held the seat out for her to sit before taking his own. "What else am I gonna spend it on, Jack?"

Not unexpectedly, he said it casual, like he hadn't just spent 2 week's pay on the night.

"Well, I for one appreciate it. Thank you."

He brushed aside her thanks, tried to ignore the burst of endorphins her smile injected into his veins. He knew just being able to see the joy in her eyes as she looked down at the stage was thanks enough, but he said, "You can thank me by tellin' me what's goin' on. Bugs Bunny didn't cover this one." He was fully prepared for the smack in the chest and her unimpressed, "Hmph!"

…..

He knew the story, having done enough research to not come into the thing blind, but he was more than willing to play dumb if it meant watching the excitement in her expression, feel the squeeze of her hand on his leg at an engaging moment. The fact that she had to lean in close to keep her voice down while she explained a particular point was well in his favour, too.

"While he pretends he can't find her key in the dark, he's telling her about himself and what he does. A poet. He writes. _When it comes to visions and dreams and castles in the air, I've got the soul of a millionaire._ " 

Her breath feathered his cheek and he didn't dare turn his head even if his curiosity begged him to find out what she would do when their lips brushed against each other. 

"He pockets her key to romance her." He hummed at his discovery. "Guy's smooth."

She slapped his thigh then rubbed the spot and he held his breath. Her attention was drawn to the drama unfolding below them which gave him the pain/pleasure of her being unaware of what she was doing while also -blissfully- being unaware at his reaction, though if her hand moved up any higher on his leg, she might get an idea.

An hour went by, joy and agony in equal measure, both for the couple on stage and the pair in the box seat, though the agony for the latter was limited to Gibbs, who had to live through 60 minutes of Jack's hand claiming his thigh as home and her fingers reacting to every high and low moment. The house lights came up for the intermission and he wasn't sure if it was mercy or disappointment. 

She inhaled deeply and shook her shoulders as if bringing herself back from a dream. He touched her knee, keeping her in place until he could stand and offer his hand. She accepted the gesture, and when she got to her feet, she asked, "So? What did you think?"

He tilted his head back and forth a few times while pressing his lips together in contemplation. "Yeah," he said at last. "S'good."

Her eyebrow arched at his unexpected praise. "Well, you _are_ a carpenter. I imagine you can see the beauty in the craftsmanship."

"Doesn't mean I'm not gonna need a drink to get me through the second half."

"They're called 'acts', football guy." 

"Just find me something called 'whiskey'."

…..

She had left him at the bar so she could make a stop at the ladies' room, and while she caught the attention of a few eyes on the way, as she had done when she first entered the building, the only eyes she truly felt burning into her back was his. Something had been lit in her apartment, a dormant candle that she had been holding between them for the past 3 years, and he had inexplicably chosen that moment to offer the match. She shook her head. She was letting the opera's fiction weave into her reality. It was that damn tuxedo.

She was just finishing up when she heard two voices outside the stall. Her hand stopped on the latch when she discovered the topic of conversation.

"Did you see Jethro Gibbs?"

"As long as it took me before my eyes fell out of my head!" a woman whisper-exclaimed. 

The first woman spoke again. "I haven't seen him at one of these functions in, what? Twenty years?"

"I think it was Stacey? Stephanie? The fourth wife."

There was a laugh. "Four marriages! I wonder what's wrong with him?"

"I don't know, but I'd love to find out everything that's right about him!"

"Mmmm," the woman purred, "you and me both. That man ages like fine wine."

Jack chose that moment to exit the stall, partly in amusement, partly in guilt for overhearing as much as she had. "I think aged whiskey would be a better comparison." The two women froze, but Jack smiled to put them at ease, drawing them in like co-conspirators. "A strength that has a bite to it, but absolutely worth it when he goes down." She heard the words come out of her mouth before her brain could frantically reel them in, and the expressions on the women's faces told her there was nothing she could do to take them back.

One woman arched her eyebrow and the other simply shook her head and hummed. "You lucky, lucky woman. My husband's like my taxes- never goes down."

Jack turned on the taps, hoping the cool water would douse the fire she felt in her face, and was saved from any further embarrassment when the women said their goodbyes and left. She looked up into the mirror and shook her head. "Really, Jacqueline?"

…..

She came out of the bathroom in time to see the women walk past Gibbs and she prayed they kept their thoughts to themselves. As she approached him, she realized that prayer was answered, but it didn't matter; they obviously had given him some kind of look that warranted the confused line across his forehead. Before he had the chance to put words to it, she beat him to it.

"So, I might have said something in the bathroom to those women that led them to believe you and I were together. Sleeping together. And I might have given them the impression that you had good oral skills. _Really_ good oral skills. I mean, I meant to compare you to good whiskey and I said you were good going down, and it came out before I had a chance to hear it in my head. You know how I am!"

His hand reached for hers and put a drink in it. "Breathe, Jack."

She lifted the glass in thanks and downed it.

"That explains why they looked like they wanted to eat me alive."

His dryness made her laugh, just as she knew it was intended. "I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for? I'm a guy. I'm flattered."

"Well, yeah. But the bit about us being together. I know you don't like being the topic of office gossip."

He shrugged and downed his own drink. "S'good gossip."

Before she had a chance to ask him what he meant, the call came, announcing the end of intermission.

…..

When he had told her he thought the opera was good, he wasn't lying. She was right- while he might not have understood or related to it, he could appreciate it, admire the beauty in the creation of it. But two hours of it was testing the limits of his patience in the tux, in the overpriced seats and the music that was starting to sound like one loud ball of noise. So he turned his attention to a different kind of beauty. She was still pressed against his side, though her translations had lessened as the story became more morose and her hand found his instead of his thigh. He knew the gist of what was about to happen, and he watched the emotions play across her face, her mouth going soft, her eyes sparkling like diamonds from the tears that were forming. She had obviously seen this opera several times, because her lips silently mouthed the words of the dying woman's aria, and he felt compelled to give her fingers a reassuring squeeze. 

When the curtain came down and the audience applauded, he held onto her hand and she looked at him. 

"I don't know why that gets me every time," she said, wiping away a tear with her free hand. 

"She dies," he replied.

A soft chuckle at his black and white response broke through her emotions. "I think it's a bit more than that." When he tilted his head to encourage more, she shrugged. "I think about how much time they wasted being apart, time they could have spent together. Then she dies and it's all been for nothing." She tried to undermine her feelings by quickly adding, "I'm sure being a psychologist doesn't help- always trying to find a deeper meaning in things."

He didn't let her deflect. "Bein' a psychologist has nothin' to do with it. You're just human, Sloane. We all got our regrets." He thought about all the regret he'd held onto since a stormy night blew her into his life. 

His honest confession soothed her sadness. With her hand still in his, she brought it up to her heart and said, "Well, beyond the obvious," she tilted her head in the direction of the stage, "I regret nothing about the night. Except maybe that comment in the women's bathroom. Wow."

Reminded of her blunder, he couldn't help but laugh. "C'mon. Bishop's gonna wanna take pictures." His voice was flat but his smirk was bright, and he let her tug him along by his fingertips.

…..

His team -his family- weren't hard to spot in the reception area, his eyes immediately picking them out in the corner. It was hard to believe he had been through so much with them, had watched them grow through various parts of their lives, still 'kids' to him even as they stood there in adult clothes. He felt Jack squeeze his hand and lean in.

"They grow up so fast, don't they?"

It didn't surprise him that she could read his mind. In fact, for a guy who didn't like to talk, there was a certain comfort to it. She didn't wait for a reply and instead made the walk toward the group, pulling him along behind her. 

Nick was the first to see them.

"Wow," was all he said, holding out his arms as if measuring his admiration. She stepped into the invitation and kissed both cheeks.

"You don't look so bad yourself, Agent Torres." Her once-over complemented her words. "And Ellie! I love your hair!" She embraced her a little longer and whispered in her ear, "You two are made for each other."

Bishop stepped back and wryly said, "Same goes for you." 

Ignoring the sly comment, Jack turned to Tim. "Delilah didn't come?"

McGee shook his head. "Morgan's come down with something so we didn't want to get a babysitter. I told her I'd take her to that new restaurant in Georgetown to make it up to her."

Jack commiserated with an, "Aww," and when he mentioned the restaurant, she asked, "Corton?"

McGee nodded his surprise. "Yeah, you know it?"

"Let me know when you want to go. I went through Pendleton with the chef. Small world."

"That would be awesome, Jack. Thanks."

She touched his arm. "Any time. Now," she said, "where can a girl get a drink around here?"

"A girl after my own heart," Gibbs said. "Grab me something; I gotta hit the head." He then leaned in and whispered something against her temple that made her laugh, and when her attention switched from his retreating form to the agents in front of her, she saw Torres' playful expression. "What?"

"I owe McGee 100 bucks because I didn't think the boss man would show. The least you can do is tell me how the date's going."

She frowned. "Date? It's not a date." The trio scoffed and laughed and Jack shook her head. "Seriously, guys. It's not a date."

Tim looked at his teammates and realized he had been silently appointed their spokesman. "Jack, I don't know what to tell you, but it's a date. It's one of the big three."

The frown got deeper. "Sorry? I'm not following."

"The Big Three," Tim repeated. "It's how you know it's serious. The opera." He lifted his index finger, then looked at Torres.

"Dancing in the rain," Nick added, holding up two fingers.

"A date on the beach," Bishop finished, showing three.

Jack's eyes went from Tim to Nick to Ellie. "You guys are crazy."

"Maybe," Bishop admitted, "but it's still a date."

She was saved from the argument by Gibbs' reappearance at her side, a presence that suddenly felt different somehow. The strength was still there, the security she always felt when he was near remained. But it was as if all of her nerve endings were on high alert, and she damn near moaned when his hand turned hers over.

"I don't see a drink." He looked at each of them. "What the hell were you doin' while I was gone?"

Tim coughed. "Let's grab that table," he said, gesturing to the corner, mercifully saving them all from answering the loaded question.

…..

An hour had passed, filled with laughter and warmth, the small group loosening up outside the confines of work. Even Gibbs relaxed, mellowed by the bourbon and the company, sitting back to rest his arm on Jack's chair. His fingers tickled her back at random intervals when it seemed like he needed reassurance that she was still there. The mood was so laid back that she had nearly forgotten about her earlier conversation with the team until Gibbs stood and looked down. 

"I think this tux came with one dance," he said, like it wasn't the most unexpected thing to come out of his mouth.

Tim held back the sip of wine that threatened to spray across the table, Bishop's eyes went as wide as saucers and Nick just smirked.

Jack could barely get out a nonsensical, "Yes," and stood as he gently pulled out her chair. She saw Nick's expression, and feeling Gibbs behind her, blocked from her view, she mouthed, "It's not raining," and gave her best, 'So there' expression before looping her hand through Gibbs' elbow.

They made it to the middle of the floor and his right hand had just slipped around her waist when a thunderous crack shook the room and immediately, the rain came down. The skylight above them became a glass umbrella and Jack looked up to the ceiling, then to him.

"You are kidding me," she said, her lips barely containing her laugh. Though she knew it was a coincidence, if someone told her he'd somehow engineered the storm, strong-armed the weather into making it rain, she's more than half believe it. Still, she couldn't resist asking, "How?"

His blue eyes gave away nothing. "How what?"

Rather than answer, she swayed into him, drawing her left hand from its neutral place on his shoulder to curl more intimately around his neck. His silent response was to bring her other hand against his chest and his lips to her temple.

"I can't wait to see how you cram a beach into the evening."

Her hips tucked in closer under his persuasive touch. The music gave him time to measure his words. 

"Technically, you don't hafta cram them all into one date."

They both knew he had just laid out exactly what it was, openly confessed to his intent. He pretended to pay attention to his footwork and she decided to take a detour. 

"Well, DC _is_ landlocked."

He chuckled into her ear, acknowledging her deflection though feigned offense at her lack of faith.

"You think I can't get ya to a beach, Jack?"

Considering she was still contemplating his ability to command the weather, she didn't doubt he could somehow bring the beach to them.

"Cancun?"

"Was thinkin' more like Dewey Point." Hearing her playful pout against his jaw, he said, "After tonight, I'm all tapped out. An' I think I got roped into puttin' one of Leon's kids through college."

Her pout turned into a laugh and it brought out his smile. The music cued him to release her as far as his fingertips, spin her once, then bring her back into his arms. If they had gotten looks when they had first walked in, they were getting them doubled now, but neither noticed or cared.

It took a minute for her body to get used to his pressed against her, even if part of her felt like they had been fitted together for years. His hand created a home at her waist, his long fingers spread to cover as much as he could. Always in protector mode, even when doing something as innocuous as dancing. Except there was something in the pressure against her back, something in the way his knee pressed along the inside of hers that said more than 'protector', more than 'dance partner'. It was a possessiveness she didn't expect in a room full of people. Or in front of anyone.

Though it was obvious to everyone, she felt compelled to say, "The team knows about the Big Three."

She was surprised by his soft grunt. "Sloane, everyone knows about the Big Three."

She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. "Yeah, well until an hour ago, I thought your Big Three was Boat, Basement and Bourbon."

She was surprised it didn't get a grin from him. Instead, he lifted his gaze and looked over her head. "Yeah, well maybe it's time for this old dog to learn new tricks."

She felt his hand encourage her to step into him again and she was more than happy to comply. The nearness of him, the broadness of his shoulders, the warmth and the scent of his throat that was inches from her lips was quickly becoming a magnet she couldn't resist. 

She swallowed once to wet her throat and her fingers played with the collar of his dress shirt until she found the courage to ask. "So, is this a date?"

He paused so long that she wondered if he had heard her. Or worse, didn't want to answer. But before she could backpedal, he released her again for a gentle spin, and when she came back into his chest, he said, "Wasn't sure. Not until I saw you in that dress."

It wasn't an answer she expected, and it made her smile. "That's it? Oh, babe, I'll wear this dress every day if you want."

His lips twitched at the moniker that slipped from hers, but rather than call her on it, he said, "It was the thought that there might come a time you'd wear it for someone else. I didn't like that."

She knew the confession left his heart exposed, and she didn't know how to tell him it was always safe with her, from the moment they met. 

"Cowboy-"

The thunder rattled the building again, and everyone jumped except them. They had gone through enough in the three years -in a lifetime- to let the rattle roll right over them. Still, she gripped him tighter and without hesitation, he reciprocated in kind. 

"You think every major event in our lives will involve a rain storm?" she asked against his jaw. She could almost feel the vibrations of his laugh under her lips.

"Nah," he said with an assuredness that almost made her moan. "I think it's gonna be clear skies from here on out. Especially since you're takin' me to Cancun." Before she could object, he spun her again and added a dip, and her laughter filled the room.

…..

-end.

**Author's Note:**

> The opera is La Bohème.  
> The Big Three was from S10E07's episode, "Shell Shock 2".  
> This is my 100th NCIS fic- my thanks to all those who have supported my work all this time. You can't imagine how much I appreciate it.


End file.
